


Living Art

by o_WinterQueen_o



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Ficlet, Gift Fic, Hair Braiding, Heiress / Prostitute AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_WinterQueen_o/pseuds/o_WinterQueen_o
Summary: Tender fingers carded through ebony locks, a gentle smile adorning her lips.





	Living Art

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, Kari back at it again with the Tumblr drabbles. This is a gift fic for my friend Snu (@skyvar), for an AU in which Senjumaru is an artist from a rich family and Cyan is a prostitute who she originally intended to simply hire as her Muse, but so much more became of that.

Cool night air wafted gently through the darkened room from the open window, stirring the flames of flickering candles. The scent of night-blooming jasmine hung delicately in the air, emanating from the white bloom-studded vines overflowing from the window box. Nimble fingers reached out carefully to pluck a handful of the flower boughs from their home upon the vines, gently pealing away the excess leaves, before moving the jasmine to rest upon the bed. 

Gazing down upon the sleeping woman whose head rested in her lap with a certain fondness in her eyes, Cyan returned to her original task. Careful not to wake the other, she carded her fingers through Senjumaru’s hair. A half-finished plait, jasmine woven expertly into the strands, was taken up once more, additional blooms added every so often as she continued the braid. 

When she was done, Cyan could not help but smile. Bathed in moonlight as they were, the picture the artist’s sleeping form created was striking. Long ebony locks pulled back from her face into a braid, punctuated by brief burst of white. Fair skin standing out in stark contrast to the black silk of Cyan’s nightgown— the contrast only heighten by the red eye shadow she forgot to remove. Senjumaru was utterly breathtaking, a living work of art, even in her sleep. 

It was nice.

The soft silence of the sleeping world with only Senjumaru’s even breathing to make a sound. Rare was it that Cyan felt so content with her life, yet here and now in this moment, it was impossible to feel anything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please review.


End file.
